𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐖𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐁𝐞 | 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫 ✅

5 - By Her Side

One Week Later

Jenny braided my hair for me. I sat in the window seat in my room, looking out at the hammering rain which was pelting the fields of Lallybroch.

Jenny sighed as she tied the end with a sombre black ribbon - new, the same as my dress. "The fields'll be flooded at this rate," she looked out of the window and then said, "good thing harvest is soon - I dinna think the crops could last much longer like this."

It had rained constantly for a week, and not a drizzle or a light shower. No, it had rained heavily, even at night. Everything outside was sodden and Jenny was right - if the rain went on for another week, the crop for the coming year would be completely ruined.

"Carriage is ready." Morag bobbed a curtsy at us from the door. Jenny had heard her approaching, so had turned to look at her. The Lallybroch carriage was used for only the finest occasions - and my father's funeral, apparently, constituted as one. Da was being buried in the little village cemetery, and not in the Fraser's family one, something which I was not offended at - he would have wanted to be buried with my mother, who was in the village cemetery under a beautiful oak tree.

"Thank you, Morag." Morag left us and Jenny turned to me. She turned me around using a hand on either of my shoulders, "are you ready for today?"

I bit my lip, honestly unsure of the answer.

"If I say no, can we postpone?"

Jenny giggled quietly and then said, "I dinna think there's an answer to that question, then."

I nodded in agreement, humming quietly. "How do I look, Jenny?"

She smiled despite herself, "like a right bonnie lass... my brother would be lucky to have you." A smirk spread across her face.

"I dinna feel so for Jamie -"
"Liar." She grinned, "but it's okay, I willna tell him, you ken."

I smiled gratefully at her, rubbed her shoulder in thanks and then stepped past her to leave the room, heading for the Fraser carriage which was waiting for us in the courtyard.

* * * * *

In black, no matter how new the gown was, I knew that I looked awful... but that was the furthest thing from my mind as I watched the coffin of my father be lowered into his grave, the same one that my mother had been buried in just a year previously.

Brian had paid for it all, of course, insisting that whatever money I had left from my father should be saved in case I ever needed it for something serious.

The priest spoke monotonously, blessing my father's body and the ones that he had left behind - I fought the urge to correct the good Father - for my own had left just one behind. Me.

I sobbed. My tears were falling more thickly than the rain around us, and Jenny clutched my hand to give me strength.

The priest finished and took a step back from the graveside, taking a handful of dirt from the pile at his side and then throwing it down onto the coffin.

At this, I felt my knees buckle. I thought that I would fall into the hole with my parents, and I had almost fully prepared for it... until there was a pair of strong arms around me, holding me up, and someone was pulling me to my feet, propping my weight up against their own.

I was freezing cold. The rain had soaked me through to the bone, corset be damned, and I was shivering... or was I shaking from the loss of both parents in such a short amount of time? I wasn't sure, but as Jamie draped his own thick brown, white fur-lined cloak around us both, I knew that he would stand by his promise that he had made in the kitchen just a week earlier - he would stand by me forever.

That was the thing about Jamie, I thought, he was always trying to protect you, whether you wanted him to or not.

In Jamie, rather than Jenny, I found my salvation. Jenny was no longer clutching at my hand, instead standing by her father on the other side of the grave. I hadn't even noticed her move... but all I needed at that moment was somebody to hold me, and Jamie wanted to do so. I buried my head into his chest and let him hold me tightly as I cried, the other mourners throwing a handful of dirt on top of the coffin each.

A few times, his shoulders racked. I wondered if he was crying, too...